Another Away
by Phantomraven1
Summary: 18 year old Harry finds himself in a different dimension where his parents are alive, Voldemort exists, Peter never betrayed James and Lily, and his counter-part is a 33 year old curse-breaker living in Egypt with his best friends Bill and Ron. Is Harry still the Chosen One in this alternate world? And how will he get back to his real world... or better yet, does he want to?
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: If I was J.K. Rowling; __***Warning, Deathly Hallows Spoilers***_ _- then Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, and Fred would be alive. _

_Do I sound like J.K. Rowling to you? No? Good. Cause I'm not. _

…

"Would you listen to yourself? Are you actually that stupid?"

Harry looked up in complete shock, surprised that Dudley Dursley could call anyone but himself stupid.

"Dudley, don't try me."

"You'll be expelled!"

Harry gave his cousin an odd look; Dudley looked almost . . . gleeful?

"I don't go to school anymore. What are you on about?"

Dudley smiled evilly. Harry didn't like where this was going. "Nevermind, don't answer that. And it's not like I'm not allowed to do magic."

Dudley flinched.

"Oh grow up Dudley! MAGIC!" Harry bellowed so loudly that he could have sworn he heard Uncle Vernon's yell from across the street. Dudley stared at him, open-mouthed and shocked.

Not a minute too soon Vernon Dursley came waddling out of the house and raced as fast as he could towards Harry. Sticking his big, ugly purple face right into Harry's own, he panted, "House – inside – NOW!"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I don't live here anymore."

Uncle Vernon opened his mouth to say something, then broke off, looking ecstatic. "Too right you are!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm only here because –" Harry broke off, clutching his throat. Dudley looked horrified, but Uncle Vernon looked as though Christmas had come early.

"He's choking!" He shouted gleefully.

The last thing Harry did was give his Uncle the meanest glare he could summon before he fell to the ground, lifeless. He could have sworn he heard a loud scream right before the pavement came to meet his face.

…

James Potter sighed and turned over in his sleep; he subconsciously nuzzled his head into his wife, Lily's, long dark red hair. She sighed and cuddled closer to him.

BOOM!

They both yelped and jumped up. Lily hurriedly grabbed her wand.

James looked for his, but realized that it was downstairs.

BOOM!

They both jumped again, and James grabbed Lily's arm, dragging her out of bed as silently as he could.

"What – James?"

James put a finger to his lips, making a silent "shh" sound. She nodded and he steered her towards the walk-in closet. She bit her lip and put her hands around her very pregnant belly.

BOOM!

"Ahh!" somebody shouted.

It wasn't James or Lily.

…

"Stay right there!"

Harry jumped a mile as he heard a male's voice. He whipped around, drawing his wand out, expecting to see Death Eaters at most. What he saw surprised him so much he dropped his wand.

"D-Dad?"

"Harry?" James suddenly appeared in the doorway. He was clutching his chest with his hand.

"Merlin Harry, my heart was going that fast!"

Harry could only stare, open-mouthed, at his father. His _dead _father.

"Harry? Are you okay?"

Gaining his sense back, Harry dove for his wand and pointed it straight at James's heart.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

James looked startled. "Harry, it's me . . . it's your father! Put that down!"

"James?" Harry heard a small voice from upstairs ask. James inwardly cursed his bad luck. Harry glanced upwards.

"Who's up there?"

"Your mother, Harry!" James took a step forward, and Harry automatically took a step backwards.

"Don't play games with me, _Death Eater!" _he snarled.

James stopped dead. He looked as though he'd been slapped.

"Harry – what?"

"You heard me, stay away. This is so messed up, even for you. You're 'Lord' is gone, stay away from me!"

"My Lord? What Lord?" James repeated blankly.

Harry was shaking with anger. "Don't play stupid, Death Eater. What's your real name anyway?"

"James, James Potter – Harry!" James yelped as red and gold sparks erupted from the end of Harry's wand.

"Harry, where did you get that wand?"

"It's mine," Harry snarled, "and you would know it, Death Eater."

"No, that's not your wand Harry. Your wand is willow," James sounded concerned.

Harry laughed. It was a horrible sound for James to hear. He had never heard his son laugh like that, it was cold, menacing.

"Right," he snorted. "And I'm Voldemort."

James tensed. "HARRY!"

"WHAT!" Harry bellowed. "Are you scared to say your Dark Lord's name? Voldemort, Voldemort, VOLDEMORT! Or better yet, how about Tom? You know, his REAL name."

James gulped, he had never seen Harry looking so dangerous. "Harry, please, put the wand down."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Why should I?"

"James?" Harry heard the tentative call again. This time it sounded closer. Harry gasped as a woman with dark red hair, wearing a gold nightgown that exposed her very pregnant belly, walked into the room, looking nervous.

"Harry?" his mother questioned. Harry had to blink back tears. "Mum?"

He dropped his wand. Again.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Lily hurried towards him, and enveloped him in a hug. He automatically stiffened, and backed away from her.

Lily looked hurt.

"Harry, what is it?"

"No, this is too low." Harry whispered.

"Harry?" Lily asked. Her voice was soft. The last time Harry had heard it was when he had resurrected her and his dad.

"Please, don't do this to me," he pleaded, backing away from them both. They exchanged concerned glances, and turned back to Harry.

"Harry, what are you talking about sweetie?"

"Don't call me that." Harry snarled, gaining his confidence back. He automatically leapt for his wand again, but James got to it first. Harry watched, horrified, as his father stuck his wand in his back pocket.

"Give that back!" he shouted.

"I don't know what's gotten into you Harry," James's voice was low. "But it's going to stop right now, you – Harry, what's that on your forehead?"

"You would know," Harry snarled. He could have attacked them both, but there was this tiny hope in his chest that it may be his actual parent's. However tiny that hope was, he wasn't going to chance it.

Lily gasped, and brushed his bangs off his head. Harry flinched away from her. "Get away from me."

Tears welled in Lily's eyes, and Harry had to turn away. He wasn't used to girls crying. It still made him feel awkward.

"Harry, what happened, how did you get that?"

Harry turned to look at them both. "You really don't know do you?"

Seeing the blank looks on their faces, Harry started laughing. He laughed so hard that his stomach hurt. _Blimey, _he thought, seeing the looks on his parent's faces, _they're going to think I'm batty!_

"Call Dumbledore."

This shut Harry up real quick. He looked at them. "I'm sorry?"

His parent's paid him no mind. James had raced towards the fireplace; he grabbed some floo powder, shouted "We need Dumbledore!" and threw it into the grate. Immediately emerald green flames erupted and an old wizard with a beard longer than his midriff came sidling gracefully out of it. He looked at James pleasantly, "you called?" he asked, sounding cheerful.

James leaned towards him and whispered something in his ear; with each whisper Dumbledore's face grew graver, and graver, until finally the cheerful face had all but disappeared.

Meanwhile, Lily was still staring at her son in confusion, paranoia, and anger. Harry wasn't looking at her. He was staring, shell-shocked, at Dumbledore.

No Death Eater in their right minds would have impersonated Dumbledore . . . so that could only mean . . .

"This is real?" Harry asked blankly. James and Dumbledore stopped whispering, and turned to stare at Harry. Lily looked like she was going to cry.

"Harry," It wasn't a question. "Please, sit down," Dumbledore said, as though scared Harry would suddenly explode.

Confused, Harry sat. Dumbledore walked over to him and sat on the seat opposite. His blue eyes stared into Harry's for so long Harry was beginning to feel uncomfortable; he felt like he was being X-Rayed.

"Tell me Harry, how did you get here?"

"I was at my Aunt and Uncle's house . . ." Harry began uncertainly, looking at his parents from the corner of his eyes. They both had their brows furrowed and looked worried.

"And then what happened?" Dumbledore pushed.

"My cousin and I were getting in an, er, argument, and well . . . I kind shouted something and my uncle raced over and then, suddenly, I couldn't talk . . . it was weird. Then I was somehow here." Harry thought it would have sounded bizarre to say that he was 'transported' here.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful face, both of his fingers crossed and up against his lips.

After a slow while, he turned back to Harry. "What did you shout, and why did you shout it?"

Harry blinked. "Magic. And er," he didn't know how he was going to explain their explanations, but he had to give them an answer: "my . . . relatives . . . don't like magic."

"Who're your relatives?" James spoke for the first time.

"I live with my Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and my cousin, Dudley."

Lily gasped, a hand flying to cover her mouth. Her emerald green eyes were huge and she surveyed Harry as though in a new light. "You live with her? When did this happen?"

Harry was still slightly infuriated, after all, he hadn't ruled out the possibility that they were all actually Death Eaters in disguise. "When I was one," he snapped.

"No," Lily argued, "you lived with us!"

"No, I didn't!"

"Yes, you did!" Lily sounded angry. Harry was strangely reminded of the visit he had paid to Snape's Pensieve, where Lily had been yelling at James.

"I couldn't have lived with you," he yelled, temper rising, "because Lily and James Potter are dead!"

There was an instant silence.

"Please, start from the beginning Harry," Dumbledore said urgently.

"No!"

"Harry," his father warned – or, his impersonated father warned.

"You don't get to tell me what to do, I don't even know any of you! Except you, and you're dead too," he nodded his head to Dumbledore. He didn't even notice the look of shock and understanding that passed his supposedly dead headmaster's face.

"Harry . . ."

Harry whipped around and glared untrustworthily at the headmaster.

"Harry, listen to me. I think you've been transported from a different dimension."

There was a shocked silence. Harry was opening and closing his mouth, apparently at a loss of words. Of course . . . this would explain everything. His parent's, Dumbledore, their shock at seeing him . . . but, then . . .

"You're lying." Harry accused.

"I assure you that I am not, and if you insist, I am willing to go under the influence of Veritaserum."

Lily gasped while at the same time James said, "Albus, you can't be serious!"

"I am completely and 100% serious . . . but under one condition," Dumbledore suddenly looked stern. Harry had to resist the urge to gulp.

"You must answer the questions we ask you truthfully. If you don't want to, then you do not have to go under Veritaserum, but it would help immensely."

Harry was in a state of shock. "Fine," he finally spat.

Dumbledore looked at him solemnly. "Thank you."

Harry's heart just about shattered; whoever these – imposters – were, they definitely knew how best to break Harry.

"Lily, call Severus."

Harry whipped around at the familiar name. "Snape? Snape's here?"

"Professor Snape, Harry," James corrected by habit. Then he realized that this wasn't _his _Harry. "Sorry," he quickly added. Harry had to resist the urge to laugh, how many times had Dumbledore said the same thing to him?

Meanwhile, Lily had grabbed some floo powder. She threw it into the fireplace, and immediately emerald green flames burst forth. "Severus, come quickly. Bring all of the Veritaserum you have!"

Not a minute later, a greasy-haired man appeared. He looked around the room with a scowl, which turned to surprise when he saw Harry standing there.

"Harry?"

Harry stared at him; Snape had never called him Harry before.

"Give me the Veritaserum, Severus."

Assuming this had to do with Harry, Snape handed the vial over to the Headmaster. He was horrified though, when instead of using it on Harry, Dumbledore tipped the vial into his mouth.

Immediately, his expression went blank.

"Who are you?" Harry demanded.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

"How is that possible?"

Dumbledore didn't answer. Harry supposed that was because it was too broad a question.

"Is Albus Dumbledore dead?"

"No."

"Are you really him?"

"Yes."

"Is this really Lily and James Potter?"

"Yes."

"Mother and Father of Harry James Potter?"

"Yes."

"Do you know how I got here?"

No answer.

"Do you have theories as to how I am here?"

"Yes."

"Can you say one?"

"Yes."

"What is it?"

No answer.

Harry sighed impatiently. "Do you know who I am?"

"Harold James Potter."

"Harold?" Harry asked in confusion. As far as he was concerned, his name was never Harold.

"Your nickname is Harry . . . in this world."

"What do you mean 'in this world'?" Harry asked suspiciously.

No answer.

"Am I in a different dimension?" Harry asked, comprehension dawning.

"It is a theory of mine," Dumbledore said seriously. His expression wasn't blank anymore. Harry supposed that the Veritaserum wasn't working anymore.

"H-How?" he almost whispered.

Dumbledore sighed. "I think we should discuss this in my office."

…

"So . . . if I traveled here . . . what happened to the other Harry – I mean Harold."

"I believe he may still be here, he is currently working as a curse-breaker for Gringotts bank in Egypt."

"A curse-breaker . . ." Harry trailed off uncertainly. "Doesn't Bill do that? Bill Weasley?"

Dumbledore looked simply delighted. "Yes, they are both colleges together – very close. Went to Hogwarts, same year."

"Same year?" Harry echoed in confusion. "That makes me –"

"You are thirty-three in this dimension."

"How old are you now?" James asked curiously.

"Um, eighteen."

"Hm," James looked impressed.

"Hang on, how are you pregnant than?" he demanded of his mother. She opened her mouth to speak, but Dumbledore cut across her. "We shall discuss that piece of information later."

"So . . . so what happened to Sirius and Peter and Remus in this dimension?"

"What do you mean 'what happened'?" James asked sharply. "And who's Remus?"

Harry's heart dropped. "Who's . . . Remus?"

"Yes, that's what I just asked you."

"You mean," Harry looked imploringly at Dumbledore, who sighed. "Remus Lupin did attend this school, but your father and his friends never talked to him . . ."

"Why not?" Harry demanded, turning to look at his parent's. "You guys were his best friends – he's the reason you guys . . . oh!" Harry's eyes widened.

"You aren't an animagus are you?"

"Animagus?" James asked in confusion. "No, why?"

Harry closed his eyes. He could sense the worried stares directed at him, but he couldn't bear to face them.

"No reason," he said quickly. He turned back to Dumbledore, and asked in a low voice that wouldn't carry to his parents, "do you know where Remus currently resides?"

Dumbledore looked at him with a knowing twinkle in his eye. "It just so happens that I do. I'm assuming your parents are friends with him in your world?"

"The best," Harry replied hoarsely. "Does he – does he have his . . . problem?"

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed, "How do you know about that?"

"Like I said . . . he was my dad's best mate . . . besides Sirius."

"What about Peter?" Dumbledore sounded confused.

"That rat can -!" Harry trailed off, closing his eyes and trying to control his anger. Suddenly the realization of what was happening sunk in.

His eyes snapped open. He felt as though the room was suddenly too small – he couldn't breathe! He backed away from the concerned faces. He thought he could hear somebody saying his name, but he couldn't be sure. There was a loud sound of rushing water in his ears. He had to get out of here!

He backed away from them all. No . . . this wasn't happening . . . he was imagining things . . .

"Harry, Harry!" somebody was shaking him roughly. But he kept his eyes shut tight. He wasn't going to show any weakness. This was . . . he hadn't been prepared.

Just as he was about to drown in his panic –

SLAP!

Harry blinked open his eyes in shock, reaching up a shaky hand to touch his now red cheek. He looked at his mother in shock.

"I'm sorry – but I didn't know what else to do!" she said desperately, her eyes, so like his, were begging for forgiveness.

"It's . . . okay . . ." he said, still staring at her.

"I think it's time you told us about yourself . . ." Dumbledore said, he had his hands clenched tightly on Harry's shoulders. Harry assumed he was the one who had been shaking him.

He glanced to the left, suddenly spotting something he hadn't seen before. "I think it would be better . . . if I showed you . . ." he said, still staring at a diary sitting – somewhat innocently – on Dumbledore's desk. It brought back many memories of his second year.

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "But yes – of course! Come, dear boy, we'll divulge in your memories together!"

Harry didn't like the sound of that. Meanwhile, James and Lily were looking utterly confused.

"What are you talking about?" Lily asked Dumbledore.

"A Pensieve!" James exclaimed suddenly. He turned to look at Harry. "You're willing?"

Harry felt fear in his gut. When they saw what had happened in all his years . . .

"This . . . this isn't going to be pretty. I don't know if your son went through the same stuff as me but . . ." he trailed off, eyes closed.

He jumped as he felt a hand touching his shoulder. "We're here for you," he heard his mother's voice. He smiled slightly.

"Okay," he said. He concentrated hard, putting his wand to his temple, and a silvery string seemed to come out of his temple.

**End of chapter 1! How do you like it so far? **


	2. Chapter 2

"Are you coming in Harry?"

Harry looked up, startled at the question. "No."

James and Lily looked like they were about to object, but obviously thought better of it at the last minute. "I'll see you later then," Harry said awkwardly.

James nodded his head and stuck his face straight into the pensieve, his body following soon after. To Harry it appeared that they simply disappeared; he wasn't sure if this was the case or not. He'd never witnessed anybody using a pensieve other than himself. Lily frowned but followed her husband all the same. Dumbledore didn't go in straight away, he simply watched Harry.

"Are you going in?" Harry asked him bravely.

Dumbledore smiled knowingly at him; "I daresay I am. Are you alright Mr. Potter?"

Harry sighed. Of course, Dumbledore would know something was wrong. "I just . . ." he trailed off. Dumbledore gave him a curt nod, a twinkle in his eye.

"I'll see you later then, sir." Harry added.

Dumbledore beamed at him before stepping into the Pensieve himself. Harry looked down, he could see the memories . . . and also what looked like three miniature people. He watched their reactions as they saw him with the Dursleys. He had almost forgotten about that cupboard . . .

He watched as Hagrid found him and introduced him to magic; he watched as he knocked out a fifty-foot troll; he watched as he saw his parent's in the Mirror of Erised; he watched his whole first, second, third, fourth, fifth, and finally sixth year. Harry closed his eyes; he knew what was coming: his seventh year.

After several, several long hours of going through memories, his parent's finally emerged from the Pensieve, Dumbledore right behind him.

As soon as Lily saw Harry, she ran for him and gathered him in her arms. Harry felt strangely touched, but also slightly embarrassed as Lily fussed over him. The only other person who had held him like this had been Mrs. Weasley.

He expected James to tell Lily to stop strangling him, or to at least glare at his son for keeping stuff hidden, but he seemed shell-shocked.

Dumbledore, on the other hand, was thoughtful. He looked at Harry with respect and something akin to regret in his eyes. As soon as Lily let go of Harry (he was still red from embarrassment), he turned to look at him seriously.

"Harry . . . I'm so sorry you went through that. I don't know what my other-self was thinking . . ."

"Don't worry about it . . . you saved me in the end," he added to Dumbledore, a smile on his face. Dumbledore smiled back at him, though there was still something that seemed to be troubling him.

Harry looked at James nervously, but James looked as though he was never going to speak again.

"J – Dad?" this seemed to startle James out of his reverie, though the word felt foreign on Harry's tongue. He looked at Harry and gave him a very artificial smile. "Yes, Harry?" he asked, his voice sounded odd.

"Are you, er, are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be okay Harry?" James asked, then he gave a very strangled laugh. Harry glanced at the other occupants in the room, startled, but they seemed to know what was going on more than he did.

"James . . ." Dumbledore said gravely. Once James didn't respond Lily walked over to him slowly, as though she were scared that he would push her away. When he didn't move Lily wrapped her arms around him, and relief showed clear in her face when he automatically did the same to her.

"I'm . . . I'm so sorry you had to go through that Harry," James said in a croaky voice, disentangling himself from Lily and walking towards Harry.

"It's . . . its fine . . . really. . . ."

"No . . . no it's not fine . . . Harry . . . we need to talk."

Harry felt as though an ice-cold hand had gripped his insides. "T-talk?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yes . . ." he glanced at Dumbledore. "I know you probably have questions too Albus, but I would like my wife and I to speak to him first."

Dumbledore nodded and went to the fireplace; he came back with a bucket of Floo powder. Wordlessly, James took the Floo powder, walked into the fire grate, and yelled "Potter Manor". He disappeared with a burst of emerald flames. Lily was right after him; she shot Harry an encouraging smile before going through the grate herself.

Harry looked at Dumbledore desperately, wanting to scream out 'don't leave me!' but he knew Dumbledore would be no help here. He would have to face his family alone. With a shaky sigh, Harry grabbed some Floo powder, and desperately hoping this wouldn't turn out like the last time he used Floo, he yelled "Potter Manor". Emerald flames erupted around him; he had the horrible feeling that he had been thrown into a tornado. Fireplaces zoomed past him as he tucked his elbows close to his sides, willing it to be over. He let out a sigh of relief and all but stumbled out of the fireplace when he recognized the Potter manor.

"Harry?" Harry jumped; he hadn't noticed his dad standing next to the grate.

"Er, hi." Harry said feebly.

Lily was waiting by the couch, her face expressing concern.

James led him over to the couch and sat him down, keeping a firm grip on his son, as though scared he would run away. Harry had half a mind to do it; he looked anywhere but at them.

"Harry – your father and I have been . . . discussing things . . . we have a few – okay – a lot of questions to ask you."

Feigning innocence, Harry smiled weakly at them. "Like what?"

"First of all, what were the Dursleys like?" James asked with a scowl. Harry noticed he seemed to spit out the word 'Dursleys'.

"Um . . . they were . . . not very friendly. . . ." he said evasively. Of all the questions they had to start with the _Dursleys_?

"What do you mean by that sweetie?" Lily asked, coming to sit next to him. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder, and frowned when he shied away from her.

"What is it?" she asked him quietly.

"I don't . . . I don't like people touching me . . ." he said rather awkwardly. Then he chuckled, "that came out wrong."

Lily and James shared a quick glance, before James asked (rather bluntly), "Harry, did they ever beat you?"

Harry stiffened. "What makes you think that?" he asked, realizing how stony his voice sounded and regretting it.

James frowned; Harry's reaction pretty much spoke for itself in his eyes. "Your uncle mentioned beating . . ."

Harry looked honestly confused, "He did? When?"

"When Hagrid found you," Lily said softly. "He said something . . . it sort of insinuated that he might have beaten you. . . ."

"Oh . . ." Harry frowned. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" James almost whispered.

"Well, I don't know. Or, remember at least."

Lily's frown deepened. "How do you not know, love?"

"I do know, well, I mean – yeah, I suppose," he really didn't like talking about this. It wasn't that the Dursleys had beat him often; especially not when he started school. To Harry it wasn't really a big deal – he may have hated them but it wasn't as though his life revolved around it. He had more important things to worry about. He had a bad childhood. It wasn't something that he wanted to live his life based on.

He could literally see the smoke coming out of his father's ears. "How often did this happen?"

"Only . . . maybe once, or twice. That's it," he added hurriedly when he spotted the looks on their faces.

"That's it?" James repeated dangerously. "They shouldn't have beaten you to begin with!" Harry mentally cringed. He wasn't going to show any weakness though.

"What did they . . . beat . . . you for?" Lily asked, scared of the answer.

"Um, things like . . . things like accidental magic . . ."

"Accidental magic!"

"Yeah . . ." Harry didn't really feel like discussing the matter. To him it just wasn't that important – or at least not anymore. "So um, what else did you want to talk to me about?"

"Oh no, we're not done with the Dursleys questions yet," James said sternly. "Second year," Harry winced, "Did your uncle really flay you? We saw him drag you upstairs after the Masons left, but then the memory ended. That happened right after he promised to flay you 'within an inch of your life' if I remember correctly."

"Um . . ."

"Harry," his mother said in a no-nonsense voice.

"Yeah," he admitted quietly, hating the fact that his parents were reacting so strongly about it. He didn't need anybody's pity. Lily drew in a pained breath. "Okay, okay we're done with the Dursleys. For now," she added, upon seeing his face.

That was good enough for Harry. The subject of his – relatives – always made him feel uncomfortable. Discussing it with his parents just made it that much worse; he hadn't even confided in Sirius about half the stuff that went on there.

"Hold out your hand," Harry was prepared for this. He held out his apparently scar-less hand.

Lily frowned and turned to her husband, "Is this the right hand?" she whispered so only he could hear.

"Yes, he must have a glamour charm on it."

James pulled out his wand, muttered 'revelio', and tapped it on Harry's hand.

Harry winced as the white lettering appeared; _'I must not tell lies'. _

James let out an angry sigh. "I can't believe that toad! We can have her sent to Azkaban for this, it's against the law!"

"It is?" Harry asked in a small voice, though he knew perfectly well that it was. Even now he felt as though there were a personal war between him and Umbridge.

"Yes, we can have her arrested," Lily said, her green eyes burning with a fire Harry had only seen once, and that was in a memory.

"Really, it's okay . . . what's done is done . . . plus she hasn't done anything in this dimension." Harry pointed out, "you'd have nothing to go on."

"No, it's not okay Harry. We should have been there for you . . ."

"It's not your fault . . . you didn't ask to die –"

"It's not your fault either. I can see the guilt on your face," Lily added when he looked confused.

"Well . . . indirectly, it is . . . I mean, if I had never been born you two would still be alive and have plenty of kids, probably. I wouldn't have burdened my relatives. None of the horrible stuff that happened in Hogwarts. All of my friends and people I care about – they'd still be alive," Harry knew that once he got started on something like this, he wouldn't be able to stop. Both of his parents were staring at him, but he ignored them.

"Harry," his mother whispered. "Nothing is your fault – you're a blessing."

"Maybe in this dimension, in mine I'm just . . . a burden, or at least in the muggle world I am. The only reason the Wizarding world puts up with me is because I'm their hero."

"You've never been a burden. Harry, I've seen how the people react when they see you – and no, I mean the real you – not the Boy-Who-Lived. They love you, all of them love you. You've given them joy and happiness. We love you also."

Harry wasn't sure how to respond to this. Strangely, it seemed as though all of his worries disappeared. He'd never had anybody say that to him before; or maybe he had, but it was different coming from his real mother.

"Sorry," he managed to get out.

"For what, honey?" his mother whispered, looking as though she wanted to throw her arms around him. Harry tried to keep his face from turning red again. Mrs. Weasley was the only person who really seemed to care about him like Lily did. Even James outshone Sirius when it came to these things, as much as Harry hated to insult Sirius's memory.

"You must think I'm pathetic," he laughed, "I don't really talk about things like this. To anybody really." _Maybe Hedwig, _he added silently, almost laughing at the fact that he could talk to an owl and not a human. Maybe it was because he wouldn't be laying any worries on her – after all, she had only been an owl, no matter how much he wanted to believe differently.

"We'd never think you were pathetic," his father said. "Don't let anyone tell you differently."

"Yeah well . . ." Harry didn't know what to say, what could he say? He wasn't really sure what he was feeling. It was somewhere between embarrassment and nirvana.

"We have a few more questions to ask. . . ."

"Okay, hit me." They couldn't be worse than what had happened already.

"What is it with you . . . and this . . . this . . . 'saving-people-thing'?"

"Oh, that," Harry turned red again. "Well, it's just . . . like I said before, I don't want anyone dying because . . . because of me. . . ."

"Harry," his mother sighed, "didn't we already tell you this isn't your fault?"

"Yeah . . . but I didn't know that then . . ." he said lamely, knowing that it was true. He still didn't believe them when it came to that – everything that had ever happened in _his _life was usually his fault.

"Don't ever think differently," his father said, nodding approvingly.

"Okay, I won't. I promise."

His parents beamed at him. Harry felt slightly guilty; he couldn't just banish those feelings like that, no matter how hard he tried.

Suddenly, his parents grew somber. "It seems that we had a good friendship with Remus Lunip – I mean Lupin." James amended quickly, upon hearing Harry's snort at the wrong name.

"Yeah, you guys were great friends . . ."

"So is it true?"

Harry's brows knitted in confusion, "Is what true?"

"Did we really become Animagi for him?"

"Yes, you did. You were truly great friends, the best you could ever have."

"And Severus," his father said in a low voice, "he was really a Death Eater?"

"Yes . . ."

"And . . ." his father drew in a pained breath, "Peter was too?"

"Erm," Harry sighed sadly, he had forgotten about this, "Yeah, yeah he was."

"So he betrayed us," James said, nodding. He seemed to bypass this information, but Harry noticed the way his jaw clenched.

"In this world . . . did that happen?"

James sighed sadly, "No. He didn't sell us out . . . but . . . he's dead."

Upon seeing Harry's shocked look, he quickly said: "Voldemort was torturing him . . . but he wouldn't give our location away . . . he died after a few hours . . ." James trailed off sadly.

Harry was mollified, so the rat was loyal in this dimension?

"What about Sirius, is he . . . he's not . . ."

"He's fine," James said, his eyebrows constricting. "Did he really go to Azkaban for twelve years?"

"Sadly, yes." Harry said.

James was shaking his head, "I still can't believe he tried to strangle you."

"What, when did this happen?" Harry asked in confusion.

James smiled bitterly, "He was so desperate to get at Peter, and when you tried to stop him . . ." he trailed off, and suddenly Harry remembered.

Harry chuckled, much to the shock of his parents, "Yeah . . . then Hermione kicked him in the face . . ." he chuckled again. His parents smiled.

"She has a mean kick," his dad laughed. "It was pretty funny when she accidentally kicked you under the table, but what I found hilarious was when she punched Draco Malfoy in the face." His eyes seemed to be swimming with respect and amusement; Harry was strangely reminded of his visit to the pensieve again.

Harry laughed heartily, "I remember that!"

"She seemed like a good friend," his mother said.

"Yeah, she's the best . . ." Harry wondered where they were going with this. "Aren't I friends with her in this dimension?"

His parents exchanged looks. "No . . . you guys hate each other."

Harry felt like he had just been stabbed in the heart. "Are you serious?"

"Well if memory serves correctly I know a certain Black –" Lily cut James's horrible serious/Sirius pun off.

"Yes, unfortunately. You and Ron are great friends though . . . you've had your fair share of arguments, but you've always worked it out in the end."

"Hang on, I thought they were years below me in this dimension."

His parents looked confused, "No . . . Ron's twin brother was Bill. Hermione was in your year too."

"Oh . . ." Harry said, he honestly couldn't imagine Ron with a twin brother – much less Bill. Hermione being in his year? None of this was really adding up. Were all of their parents a different age, or had circumstances changed? He looked at his own parents and mentally sighed, realizing how little he knew about them. Or at least, them in this dimension.

"Yeah, they aren't as close as Fred and George Weasley though." James's expression darkened, "I still can't believe all that happened to the Weasleys in your world."

"Yeah . . ." Harry muttered, thinking about Fred and how unnecessary his death had been.

He was almost tackled as a burst of red hair flooded his vision. Of course, Lily had wrapped him in another hug. She seemed very fond of hugging him. This time he didn't flinch away, but he stiffened slightly.

Lily pulled back, frowning. "That's something else we wanted to talk to you about, how come you don't like physical contact?"

"Well . . . it first started with the Dursleys," Harry said in an awkward voice. James growled, red-faced. Lily's eyes were burning with a fire he had only just started to get used to. He had to fight the urge to start yelling, much like he had during his fifth year. He honestly didn't care about them anymore, he was perfectly content with Ginny and his friends.

"Go on," Lily said in a cold voice.

Harry couldn't help but to feel slightly hurt at her tone. She seemed to notice, because she said, "I'm not mad at you honey . . . just my sister and her – whale of a husband. Not to mention the pig that they produced."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, well, it first started with them. But it wasn't really bad . . . and then . . . Voldemort . . ." Harry trailed off, his eyes going vacant as he lost himself in memories. His parents exchanged worried looks.

"So . . . we're very proud of you. Especially for defeating Voldemort, though in this dimension we never would have asked that of you . . . I don't know why our alter-ghosts were edging you on though . . ." James said.

Harry smiled at him, feeling a bit embarrassed at their praise. "Thank you, I always –" he stopped.

"Always what honey?"

"I've always wanted to hear that from you guys . . .I mean, I wasn't sure . . ."

"Sure about what?"

"I wasn't sure you guys loved me. I mean, I know you loved me, but I mean… after everything that happened when I got the resurrection stone, you seemed more proud that I was ready to die." he tried not to sound bitter at this.

"Of course we love you!" Lily sounded aghast.

Harry smiled, "Oh, I knew it after that experience with the dementors but . . . before that, I felt so alone . . ."

His parents both looked murderous; so strong was their hatred for the Dursleys. Harry hoped they weren't going to do anything stupid.

"It's all in the past now though. I'm just happy that you're alive and well . . ." he trailed off, smiling uncertainly at them. His dad ruffled his hair and his mom beamed at him.

"We love you, so much Harry."

This just made Harry more awkward and uncomfortable.

"So what are you going to tell Harold?" Harry asked, trying to change the subject. He eyed his mother's stomach, "and how are you pregnant if you're supposedly," he did some quick math in his head, "45. Hang on - you don't look a day over twenty!"

His parents exchanged scared glances, and James shuffled uneasily. "We've . . . we've been meaning to talk to you about that . . . erm . . ."

"Harry, I don't mean to put this so bluntly, but after you were born – or, when Harold was born - we were . . . taken."

"Taken?" Harry echoed in confusion.

"Yes, well . . . it's some . . . horrible magic." Lily closed her eyes and shuddered.

"Who took you?" Harry asked, horrified.

"Voldemort," his father said grimly. "That's why I was so surprised when you shouted his name like that . . .you don't really talk about it . . ."

"So, how long were you taken for? What did Voldemort do to you?"

Lily and James looked at each other. "Well . . . we're not exactly sure . . ."

"How are you not sure?" Harry was completely bemused, and a little frustrated at their lack of knowledge.

"We went to bed, and woke up . . . but when we appeared – everyone seemed so relieved and shocked. You'd think we'd been dead and brought back. We'd been gone for weeks. We didn't know of course, we don't remember a thing . . . but they checked us both over in St. Mungo's . . . well there's some kind of magic in our system. Oh, I'm not explaining this right!" Lily said, waving her arms around in the air.

James smiled slightly and held her. "They did some checkups, and we were both poisoned."

"They managed to stop it of course," he added quickly, seeing Harry's face, "but by that time the poison had taken control of our bodies . . . we haven't aged since . . . we had been trying to have another kid for years, but it was fruitless." He glanced at Lily's pregnant belly, "but something happened. We still don't know what . . ."

Harry smiled as his mother cradled her belly, though his mind was still buzzing with questions. What kind of magic had done this? Harry was certain that no magic was powerful, or dark enough, in his world to stop someone from aging. Why did things seem so different here?

"Do you know what it is yet?"

"It's a girl," his father said, smiling. "We don't have a name yet, we've been waiting for Harry – er – Harold, to return from Egypt to help us with names . . ."

"Maybe I can help," Harry said awkwardly.

His parents beamed at him. "That would be lovely," his mother said.

"Lily wants to keep up her family tradition and name our baby after a flower. Do you know any that might be good for a name?"

"What about Calla Lily?" Harry suggested feebly. "Or Violet?"

James laughed and Lily looked embarrassed. "What?" he asked, not getting the joke. Were the names he chose really that bad?

"That's what me and Lily were debating on," he said. "Lily wants Violet and I want Calla Lily."

Harry laughed a genuine laugh. He couldn't remember ever laughing like this. It felt nice, relieving. . . . for the first time ever, he was with his real family. He was a normal boy, with a normal family. Everything was alright in the world.

…..

**Second chapter up! So what do you think? Should I name the baby Calla Lily or Violet? It's a vote. I'll put a pole up too. Also, I know the whole abuse thing might seem overrated, but what a lot of people don't seem to get is how wrong J.K. Rowling described abused children. I know from personal experience (not me, but a couple friends), especially neglected children. In the first book, when they starved Harry, he wouldn't have been able to eat that much at the feast. Even if he did, he wouldn't have been able to keep it down. She has most of it right, but there were a couple of small things like that. Harry flinching away from being touched (especially after everything that's happened to him) is perfectly normal – mostly because his parents are strangers to him. Okay, rant over.**

**Please review! **


	3. Chapter 3

"So, are we done now?"

His parents exchanged looks. "We're done with you, but you still have to answer Professor Dumbledore's questions."

Harry groaned and looked downwards. "Okay," he sighed. It's better to just get it done with sooner rather than later. He didn't know why, but after telling his parents this, he felt a whole lot better.

His mother beamed at him. "Come on, I'll get the Floo ready."

James and Harry watched as she moved top speed towards the fireplace. She grabbed some powder, said, "come on!" to Harry, and waited. Harry smiled sheepishly at his father before striding across the room and taking the floo out of his mother's hands.

"Dumbledore's office!" he threw the Floo into the grate and disappeared in emerald green flames, that same, horrible sensation he had arriving at the Manor came back to him full blast. When he stepped out of the grate, he was in a circular office surrounded by silver instruments.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir?" he asked hesitantly.

Out of nowhere, Dumbledore's silver beard appeared. "Harry!" he said. "What a pleasant surprise."

Harry took a few nervous steps towards him, "um, sir, you wanted to ask me some questions?"

"Ah . . . yes," Dumbledore sighed. "I have only a few, Harry. There was one memory you showed us about when . . . well when the other me and you weren't speaking. Or shall I say when I wasn't speaking to you?"

Harry didn't like where this was going. "Okay."

"The last thing we saw in the Department of Mysteries was Sirius's death. What happened after that?"

Harry took a deep breath. "It's not that I didn't put the memory in there on purpose sir, it's just . . . I was in such agony that I couldn't think properly."

Dumbledore looked intrigued, "Indeed. Go on."

"Well, you see sir . . . after . . . after Sirius's death, well, I went after Bellatrix sir. . . ." Harry trailed off, not sure what Dumbledore's reaction was going to be.

"Harry," Dumbledore leaned forward. "You can tell me anything, and I won't judge you for it."

Deciding that Dumbledore was just using his brilliance, and not Ligillimens, Harry answered. "I went after Bellatrix," his voice was barely over a whisper, "I used the Cruciatus Curse, Professor . . ." he looked at him desperately, willing him to understand.

Dumbledore was studying Harry closely, he took a deep breath and said: "Harry . . . I did things I wasn't proud of when I was your age . . . most of which you already know. You were acting on your emotions, as does every normal person."

"But then . . . why wouldn't Remus have . . . ?"

"Remus was more worried about your safety, Harry, and the safety of those around him. It was his duty as a member of the Order to stay where he was, though I'm afraid that he would have been right behind you if he weren't a part of it."

"Oh," Harry tried to imagine this, and realized what Dumbledore said was true.

"Well, after . . . after that . . . she started goading me . . . and, something snapped in me. I don't know . . . I was yelling, and all of the sudden, Voldemort was there . . ." Harry trailed off for a moment, then started talking again.

"One of the golden statues became animated and held Bellatrix down so she couldn't do anything – it was you controlling it, though I didn't know at the time. Voldemort tried to kill me, but . . . then you saved me. I don't even know how you had gotten there so quickly. You and Voldemort got in a duel – you were telling me to hide. But . . ." Harry trailed off and took another deep, steadying breath. He felt as though he were explaining this wrong – much like Lily had. "Voldemort . . . he somehow . . . got inside me, literally. He possessed me, and I just wanted to die . . . you were trying to help me, and Voldemort kept saying, 'Kill me!' and I really wanted you too . . . it was so painful . . . I couldn't see anything, or feel anything . . . it was worse than the Cruciatus Curse . . . ."

Dumbledore nodded, seeming satisfied with the answer. "I'm sorry that I made you relive that Harry, I was merely curious . . ." he trailed off, still studying Harry, who was shifting uncomfortably.

"S'alright sir," he said awkwardly.

"When we were searching for the Horcrux . . . what happened Harry, did you – did you drink the poison? Is that why the memory wasn't in there?"

Harry suddenly looked sheepish. "Well, you see sir, you drank the poison and . . . you said stuff . . . I didn't know if my parents knew or not, and I didn't want to make you seem weak. . . . not that you were, but . . ." Harry trailed off awkwardly.

Dumbledore smiled at him, "Ah yes, that's a good excuse."

Harry didn't know what to say to that. "Oh."

"Well, I think we're done Harry. Thank you for your insight, you can leave now if you wish . . . unless you had some questions for me?"

"No sir, goodnight." This, of course, was a complete lie. Harry still had a billion questions, and he was certain that Dumbledore knew it. He was too tired to continue talking though, both mentally and physically. He wasn't sure how much he could take in a day.

Dumbledore smiled at him. "It's been a very busy night hasn't it? Goodnight Harry."

Harry stepped into the grate, and found himself back at his parents' house. _My house. _He thought to himself. _I live here now too. _

**Yeah this is a short chapter, but oh well. I couldn't go anywhere else with it. Hope you enjoyed!**


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